Christmas Night in Arkham
by OneSizeFitsAll
Summary: When the laws change to force Arkham asylum to hold a traditional Christmas for it's inmates, Rachel recruits Bruce Wayne to sponsor, and attend, the Arkham Christmas party. What with letters to Santa Claus, loud music, and a butler in a Santa costume, it seems that Christmas this year could not only be ridiculous and chaotic, but also dangerous.


_Author's Note: Hey everyone! Back again! How is everyone? _

_Ccgaylord's replies to White Elephant (Lily offers her apologies these did not show up in her fic):_

Melkor'sOnlyLieutenant: Thanks for reviewing! About Loki's box - one of my brothers got that box one Christmas. It's just a plain wooden box that plays a disturbing laugh track when you open the lid. I was trying to find a gag gift for Loki to bring but had trouble finding any that were funny, let alone appropriate. :P That one seemed like something he might bring.  
Thalion Estel: Yes, kitties seem to be a staple of fanfics... So glad you enjoyed my story. Thanks for reviewing!  
attheturnofthetide: (cool username by the way) I know; I played the white elephant game and after I opened one present that was it for me - nobody wanted to take it from me. I like Tony's version better.

_Lily's replies to Calling Birds:_

ThurinRanger: So glad you enjoyed it! Have you seen the movie? That's an edited line from the movie. Originally he said, 'Should I not have? Because I jumped!' Oh yes, LotR is going to be the big finale. :) We all love that fandom. I changed my name to Theoden King of Rohan because yesterday was the day the last Hobbit movie came out. There was this thing where everyone was supposed to change their names and avatars etc. to LotR themed stuff for the day. It's back to normal now. :) Sorry I confused you; I worried about that.  
Melkor'sOnlyLieutenant: I want one too! lol Yeah, he does. XD Maybe there's something about it in his tragic backstory... :O Friday? I probably won't be able to see it until sometime next week. Have fun! Better take some tissues and a gravestone. ;) *smiling but dying inside*  
OneSizeFitsAll: Good. :P  
ccgaylord: I know! This is like the epitome of awkward office party. -_- The only white elephant I ever did was so awkward, speaking of which. It was inspiring for this story. ;) Oh yes, how does everyone like our cheesy photoshopped cover pictures? XD They're so fun to make.  
2MFriedmanFreak: You are very welcome. Don't burst a blood vessel…  
MOSObsessed: Yes, I was worried it might be a little hard to follow if you haven't seen the movie. :/ sorry about that.

_Back over to me. It's the fifth day of our Christmas Countdown, and this is a Dark Knight/Batman based story. Keep in mind this is incredibly AU. Many of the characters mentioned (though I won't say who) were not alive at the same time as certain others...this is just kind of a weird, jumbled mass of characters from all three movies, the comics, and TV shows. Also, everyone is totally OoC._

_Moving on, the..._

Characters (in order they appear):

Dr. Jonathan Crane- aka Scarecrow, he runs Arkham asylum, and nut house dedicated to the criminally insane.

Harley Quinn- an inmate of Arkham and insane criminal.

Santa Claus- if you don't know, you should be in Arkham

Two Face- an inmate of Arkham and insane criminal

Poison Ivy- same as above

Bruce Wayne- aka Batman, he's Gotham's "dark knight" and superhero. He's also a billionaire.

Alfred- Bruce's right hand man...in other words, butler.

Rachel Dawes- Bruce's childhood friend and manhood girlfriend, she practices law in Gotham city.

Joker- an inmate of Arkham and insane criminal

The Riddler- same as above

Falcone- same as above

Ra's al Gul- same as above

* * *

**Christmas Night in Arkham**

**by OneSizeFitsAll**

_On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me five golden rings._

Dr. Crane mounted to the podium and straightened his tie impressively. Though I must admit that the individuals who were watching him as he straightened it were not very impressed. But that was not surprising, seeing that they were seldom impressed by anything but themselves.

"Due to changing laws in Gotham," began Dr. Crane, still more impressively, yet still not impressing, "Arkham Asylum has been required…" he paused, determined to impress them somehow, "to give it's inmates a traditional Christmas experience. It has been ruled inhumane treatment of incarcerated individuals to deprive them of their holiday rights. Therefore, this year, Arkham will be providing a full blown Christmas celebration with all the works."

There was some scattered, unenthusiastic clapping.

"To think," said Harley Quinn, crossing her arms crossly, "I've been being treated inhumanely ever since I got sent here."

Dr. Crane opted to ignore her. "We'll start out by decorating a Christmas tree and writing letters to Santa Claus. You are permitted to choose your own ornaments. Hot cocoa and cookies will be provided. Arkham staff will mail your letters."

His audience was beginning to become interested...though they tried very hard to hide it just to spite him. "When do we start?" asked Two-Face, pretending to be bored.

"Right now," said Dr. Crane, gesturing to the door.

There was a general stampede, accompanied with roars, cackles, and cat calls.

The inmates of Arkham lost no time in covering the tree with ornaments...in the shapes of knives, bombs, playing cards, coins, question marks and other miscellany. The lunatics stepped back to admire their creation.

"You can't even see the tree!" said Poison Ivy. She seemed proud of this fact. So did everyone else.

Dr. Crane came in with a tray of cocoa and cookies and started passing them out. "Now it's time to write letters to Santa," he said.

* * *

Bruce Wayne groaned as Alfred brought in his letter tray, stacked high with envelopes addressed to: Santa Claus, the North Pole.

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" he asked Rachel sulkily as he slit open the first one.

"Oh come on, Bruce, be a man," said Rachel, happily stirring a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane. "Remember it's your actions that define you. These poor inmates of Arkham would never have been able to celebrate Christmas without you. And," she added, "my legal support, of course."

"Do you really think that they actually need to celebrate Christmas?" growled Bruce, running his eyes down the letter.

_Dear Santa, _it read,

_I have been a very good boy this year. I want lots of nice, sharp knives. Guns are too quick. You don't get to savour all the little emotions. Make sure to bring knives._

_Joker_

There was a joker playing card inside.

"Of course!" said Rachel. "Everyone needs to celebrate Christmas! Hot chocolate?" She held out a mug to him.

"No," said Bruce, "coffee. I don't celebrate Christmas," he continued, "and I'm fine so far." He reached for another letter and opened it.

Rachel's eyes grew wide. "You. Don't. Celebrate. Christmas?" she gasped.

"Mm hm…" murmured Bruce, not paying much attention to her. The next letter was as bad as the first.

_Dear Santa,_

_I have been… _"blah blah blah...etc." he mumbled, _I would like my coin back this year...the one I gave Rachel. I would also like to kill all the horrible people who betrayed us...especially Batman. If you could just do those two things for me, I'll ALWAYS be a good boy, Santa._

_Two Face_

"What are you doing with your life?" screamed Rachel. "You don't celebrate Christmas?"

"Calm down, Rachel," said Bruce, slightly annoyed as he reached for the next letter. "It won't kill me, so why let it kill you?"

"It kills your SOUL not to celebrate Christmas," said Rachel, with conviction. "You want to know why all those people went insane? They didn't celebrate Christmas."

Bruce snorted. "That's going a bit far," he said, sipping his coffee as he read the next letter.

_Dear Santa,_

_I have been a very good girl this year. I would like a pair of bright red shoes with stiletto heels. And when I say stiletto heels, I mean _stiletto _heels. Ones that work not only as a fashion accessory, but as a weapon._

_Harley Quinn_

"Besides," went on Bruce, "they aren't insane...they're criminals."

"It's not what people are on the inside, it's what they do that defines them," replied Rachel. "And these people just act insane."

"Uh…no," said Bruce. "They act like criminals."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Even if they're criminals, it was their lack of Christmas spirit that made them so."

"Well, I'm not a criminal yet, am I?" asked Bruce, reading the next letter.

_Dear Santa,_

_I...etc. I want a book of crossword puzzles for Christmas. Really, really hard ones, that are actually challenging._

_The Riddler._

Hmm, thought Bruce. What's this one doing in Arkham again? He drew a star on the envelope, so that he'd remember to reward this undercover hero for his innocence later.

"No," said Rachel. "You're just insane."

"No I'm not!" protested Bruce, shocked.

"Believe me," said Rachel, "you are. But I've got the perfect solution. You can come with me to the Arkham Christmas party! All the inmates will want to meet the generous person sponsoring the event...and you need to experience Christmas for once."

"Wait...what?" asked Bruce, in horror. "I'm not going to an insane asylum Christmas party!"

"Why not?" asked Rachel, smiling sweetly. "You are insane, after all. And now that I think it over, most people would call you a criminal."

"_Not_ a criminal," said Bruce. "A dark knight. Get your facts straight."

"You get your facts straight," she replied, tossing her head. "_Most _people would call you a criminal. Only like...one? person calls you a dark knight. So we'll say you're a criminal."

"I'm Batman!" growled Bruce.

"Whatever," said Rachel, rolling her eyes. "That still doesn't change the fact that you're going to come to the Christmas party." She drained her mug and stood up. "Now get busy on buying the inmates their presents."

"I'm not sure I want to get the inmates presents," said Bruce, warily.

"Bruce," said Rachel, glaring at him impressively, "you are _not_ walking out on me."

"Yeah, but…"

"Bruce, if you don't bring presents for all the inmates…"

"Yeah, but…"

"And _what they asked for_…"

"But…"

"I'll go find a new boyfriend."

"No!" cried Bruce.

"Then don't let me down." She took her coat from Alfred and hurried away, turning at the door to wave vaguely. "See you then!"

Bruce leaned back with a sigh. He had a very bad feeling about the upcoming Christmas party.

* * *

"Good evening, inmates of Arkham," said Dr. Crane, more impressively than ever, for today he had more people than usual to impress. "Tonight, as you know, is the night of our first annual Christmas party."

"Get to the point," called Two Face.

"Yeah, tell us something worthwhile," said Falcone.

Dr. Crane cleared his throat in a last desperate attempt to impress. He felt a sudden urge to put on his mask. "As you know," he repeated, between clenched teeth, "it's the night of our first annual Christmas party. We have gifts for all of you, food to eat, and games to play. Of course, please participate in our door prize...five winners will be drawn at the end of the evening to be given a golden ring each. If you have not already entered it, make sure you do by the end of the evening. But first, may I introduce you to our guest, Mr. Bruce Wayne. He is the generous sponsor of our Christmas party. Without the funds he has provided, this celebration would not be possible. Let's hear it for Mr. Bruce Wayne."

He stepped back, clapping politely, but unenthusiastically. There was some scattered applause from the inmates, but not much. Rachel, however, clapped away cheerfully, far longer than everyone else.

"Uh…" said Bruce. He was usually good at making speeches, but as he looked into the hostile faces of the inmates, he felt his eloquence draining away. "Um...Ladies and Gentlemen…" he began.

A murmur went through the room. _Ladies? Gentlemen?_

"I, uh, cannot tell you what an...uh...honour it is to be a guest here at, uh, Arkham. I know now that...um...my well earned...I mean...not earned, but...um…" he paused in confusion. "Forget that," he said at last. "I now realise the true worth of the grand cause I have donated to, and...uh...yeah. I hope you all enjoy your Christmas."

He descended hurriedly from the podium, running his hand through his hair in relief. Rachel met him at the bottom with a warm smile.

"I knew you would," she whispered in his ear.

"Would what?" asked Bruce, bewildered.

"Realise the worth of my cause, of course," she replied. "Come on...now it's time to put on your Santa suit."

"My WHAT?" asked Bruce, in shock.

"Your Santa suit. You have to dress up as Santa for the inmates."

"Nuh uh. This has gone far enough. You twisted my arm into everything else, but I'm not dressing up like Santa. Nothing doing."

"But Bruce!" said Rachel. "You can't run out on me like this...think of the inmates! Most of them have never had a Santa Claus before! You have the chance to make them happy!"

"Have Alfred be Santa," suggested Bruce, seeing said butler approach and desperately clutching at any way out of his predicament. "He'd definitely look the part much better."

"But I wanted you to do it," said Rachel, pouting.

"But I've never had a Santa either, you know," said Bruce, as a last resort. "This is the chance of my life time to see someone else play Santa."

Rachel's mouth dropped open. "You've never had a Santa?" she asked. "I thought your parents were millionaires!"

"Uh...they were," said Bruce.

"Alfred…" called Rachel, striding off to talk to him.

Bruce drew a breath of relief and hurried off to find a seat in a dark corner...where Rachel wouldn't be able to find him when she had a new horror to pawn off on him. The inmates were all talking loudly and trying to open the presents beneath the Christmas tree, in spite of Dr. Crane's warnings to "wait for Santa Claus".

Finally Alfred...that is, Santa Claus...himself strode in, resplendent in red and white, with a long, flowing, and obviously fake beard. He strode up to the tree "ho-ho" ing stiffly.

The inmates recoiled in horror. Most of them had never seen a Santa Claus before, and thought that he was another one of Dr. Crane's torture devices. And the constant "ho-ho"ing certainly was disconcerting.

"Merry (ho ho) Christmas (ho ho) everyone!" said Alfred/Santa, trying his best to sound like he thought Santa ought to sound.

"Who is this new monster?" whispered Falcone.

"I'm not a monster!" cried Alfred, appalled. "I'm Santa!"

"Santa…" murmured Falcone. "Santa…"

"Just start passing out the presents," said Dr. Crane impatiently. "Let's get this over with."

Rachel came in with a tray of snacks and set it down on a table. "Now, shall we put on some Christmas music?" she asked, squeezing onto the couch between Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, and pulling out her iPod.

"Uh...Miss Dawes," said Dr. Crane nervously, "that may not be the wisest place to sit."

"Nonsense," said Rachel. "We'll be fine. Won't we, girls?" She smiled sweetly.

The two rolled their eyes and looked away. Bruce began to fidget uncomfortably. The merry sound of "Let it Snow" came pouring at it's highest volume from Rachel's iPod.

Alfred/Santa picked up a present and looked at the tag. "To Joker, from Santa" he read. "Merry Christmas, Joker!" He handed it to him with another merry "ho ho".

"What do I do with it?" asked Joker, examining it with interest.

"You open it," said Alfred blankly, forgetting to "ho ho" for once.

Joker tore the wrapping off with glee to find a box of knives. He cackled happily as he opened the box. Dr. Crane backed away with a look of horror.

"Bruce!" screamed Rachel starting up and scanning the room for him. He cowered farther back into the corner, but she managed to see him in spite of it. "Bruce!" she screamed again.

"You told me to get them all what they asked for," he explained nervously, nearly shouting over the sound of "Jingle Bells".

"Nonsense!" cried Rachel. "Do you really expect me to believe that a nice, sweet man like Joker would really ask for knives for Christmas?"

"Wait…" said Dr. Crane, looking as though he was about to faint, "you got them all exactly what they asked for?"

"Uh...yes…" admitted Bruce.

"I am NOT handing out any more presents," said Alfred, suddenly, making a dash for the door. Crane, Bruce, and Rachel tried to stop him, but he was surprisingly agile for an old man. He was out the door before any of them could reach it.

"Don't panic, don't panic," said Rachel over and over again. "They're perfectly harmless...just insane. Let us continue the party."

"Hey!" shouted Ra's al Gul suddenly. "I don't have a present! The hallucinogens I asked for aren't here…"

"I'm sure I brought them," said Bruce, cowering under Rachel's glare.

"That's NOT what I meant," said Rachel, through her teeth.

"Oh…" said Bruce. "Um...let's not panic, remember? Aren't we going to continue with the party?"

"I'll deal with you later," hissed Rachel, as they turned away from the door.

They turned back from the door, only to see that the inmates had helped themselves to the presents beneath the Christmas tree, and were now facing them, holding their new weapons high. (All except for Riddler, that is, who was starting in on his crossword puzzles, and Ra's al Gul, who was still crawling about under the Christmas tree.)

There was a general scream...on the inmates part, of triumph, and on Bruce, Crane, and Rachel's part, of pure terror.

The inmates made a rush at them, knives, high heeled shoes, and the rest poised.

"Okay," said Rachel. "Now panic."

They turned and fled to the mournful tune of "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas".

* * *

_There you have it! (My endings are all so lame…) Anyway, please review, and check back tomorrow for ccgaylord's story, _"The Sunwheel"_, where good things wait for you._


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